Chapter 46
The next day, while Reyn was busy forging three new swords for Elric, Selene, and Aidan in the capital, an unexpected event unfolded at the royal palace. Cailum Althares, the second prince, was enduring yet another tedious lesson with his tutor when a black-feathered bird swooped in through the open window.
The bird landed on the tutor's head, causing her to gasp in shock, and promptly dropped a wrapped weapon onto Cailum's lap. It then puffed out its chest and began delivering a magical, voice-recorded message in a confident tone.
"This is the sword crafted by the Blacksmith of a Thousand Tales," the voice declared. "It is a weapon with three forms, each more powerful than the last. A battle spirit resides within, and to unlock its full potential, the prince must first gain the spirit's acknowledgment. To do so, you must send your consciousness into the blade to converse with the spirit. Only then will the weapon's true nature be revealed."
The bird spread its wings dramatically and continued, "This sword was inspired by a tale of a legendary warrior who loved battle. He traveled far and wide, challenging the strongest people and monsters he could find. One day, he encountered someone even crazier than himself—a figure who matched his strength and wild spirit. The warrior was so impressed that he pledged his loyalty to this person and dedicated his life to seeking out warriors who could give him the ultimate fight. The weapon before you carries that warrior's unyielding pursuit of strength and challenge."
The bird flapped its wings once more, leaving a single black feather behind as it flew out the window. The tutor huffed, clearly annoyed at the interruption, but Cailum's attention was fully on the weapon resting in his lap.
The prince carefully unwrapped the blade, revealing a masterpiece unlike any other. Its sleek, polished form seemed to hum with energy, and faint, otherworldly patterns danced along its surface.
"Well," Cailum said, standing and gripping the sword. "If this is what fate has delivered, then I won't waste time. Tutor, consider today's lesson concluded."
---
At the royal practice grounds...
Alone in the training yard, Cailum examined the blade closely. Its craftsmanship was flawless, but what intrigued him most was the energy it seemed to radiate, as if it were alive.
He tightened his grip, closed his eyes, and focused his mind on the sword. Instantly, his surroundings faded, and he found himself in a glowing, golden arena. A strong breeze swept through the space, carrying with it the scent of battle.
From the wind emerged a figure cloaked in shifting air currents. The spirit had sharp, piercing eyes and a confident smirk.
"You must be Cailum," the spirit said, its voice a mix of playful mockery and challenge. "I am Zephyros, the battle spirit bound to this weapon. You're here to earn my acknowledgment, I assume?"
"That's right," Cailum replied, standing tall. "What must I do?"
Zephyros laughed, a booming sound that echoed in the arena. "Strength alone isn't enough to wield me. If you want my power, you must prove that you're worthy in spirit as well as skill. And there's only one way to start: you must perform my happy dance."
Cailum blinked, incredulous. "Your... what?"
"My happy dance," Zephyros repeated, beginning to move rhythmically to an invisible tune. "It's a sacred ritual—a test of humility, dedication, and your willingness to embrace the absurd. Watch and learn, prince. If you want my power, you'll have to let go of your pride and dance!"
The spirit's movements were swift and elaborate, a blend of fluid spins and exaggerated gestures.
Cailum groaned, rubbing his temple. "This is ridiculous."
Zephyros smirked. "You can walk away, but the sword will remain locked. Your choice."
Reluctantly, Cailum sighed and began mimicking the spirit's movements. His steps were clumsy at first, but Zephyros clapped encouragingly. "Yes! Loosen up! Spin! Now clap! Point to the sky with conviction!"
To his own surprise, Cailum found himself caught in the rhythm. As he danced, the golden arena seemed to brighten, the energy around him growing more intense. Finally, Zephyros called out, "Say my name, Cailum! Say it with pride!"
The prince finished the dance with a dramatic stomp, pointing the blade toward the sky. "Zephyros!"
The arena erupted in light as the weapon in his hand transformed. The sword's blade elongated, reshaping into a sleek spear. With a metallic clink, the spear split into three segments, each connected by glowing chains that pulsed with power.
Zephyros laughed, clearly pleased. "You've unlocked my second form—a spear that can split into three sections. It's a weapon of versatility and precision, perfect for someone who seeks to dominate any battlefield. But remember: my final form is reserved for a warrior who truly understands the meaning of strength. When you're ready, I'll decide if you're worthy."
Cailum nodded, admiring the spear. "Thank you, Zephyros. I won't disappoint you."
"Good," the spirit replied, fading into the weapon. "And don't forget to keep dancing—it's good for the soul."
---
Later that evening...
Back in the palace, the tutor looked unimpressed but couldn't deny the results. Cailum held the transformed weapon with a newfound confidence.
"This spirit," he mused, "might be eccentric, but the power it wields is undeniable. I'll master this weapon and prove my strength."
Far away, Reyn grinned to himself as he sensed the connection between Cailum and the weapon growing. He knew that the prince's journey with the sword was only beginning—and that it would shape the challenges to come.
Chapter 46
Reyn's excitement buzzed in the air as he placed the final touches on the three swords destined for Elric, Selene, and Aidan. Each weapon was a masterpiece in its own right, inspired by tales of legendary warriors yet adapted to the unique magic and needs of their wielders.
Selene's blade shimmered with a faint frost coating, faint snowflakes drifting off its edge. Aidan's sword coiled with an almost serpentine grace, the design sharp and sleek. Elric's weapon exuded an aura of elegance, the intricate floral patterns along its blade glowing faintly in the light.
Standing in his secret base, Reyn felt a mix of pride and apprehension. "All right," he muttered, clapping his hands together. "Time to bring them to life."
Summoning the Spirits
Reyn began with Elric's sword, carefully preparing the summoning circle. The runes etched into the floor pulsed faintly as Ember's flame danced around the room. Magic thickened the air as the offering—a small bouquet of enchanted roses—was placed in the center.
A gust of fragrant wind swirled as the spirit appeared, her form elegant and regal. She had hair like golden petals and a dress that seemed woven from flower petals.
"I am Fiora, Queen of Blossoms," the spirit declared, her voice melodic. She examined Reyn with a critical eye. "This sword is exquisite. But tell me, blacksmith, is the wielder worthy?"
Reyn chuckled nervously. "Elric is probably one of the most handsome and charming men in the Empire. Plus, he's incredibly skilled with the blade."
"Handsome and skilled, you say?" Fiora arched an eyebrow. "He better be radiant, or I'll leave this sword without hesitation." She gave Reyn a coy smile. "For now, I'll trust your judgment. But know this—I only stay where beauty thrives."
Reyn sighed in relief as Fiora melded into the sword, the floral glow intensifying briefly before fading.
Next was Selene's sword. Reyn prepared the circle again, this time with a small crystalline sculpture resembling a snowflake. When the spell was cast, a shy figure emerged. The Snow Spirit was delicate, her translucent form like carved ice, with faint swirls of snow encircling her.
"Um... hello," she murmured, nervously looking at Reyn.
"Hey there," Reyn said gently, not wanting to scare her off. "You like the sword?"
The Snow Spirit nodded, though she avoided eye contact. "It's... it's beautiful. But... will the wielder be kind?"
"Selene's one of the nicest people I know," Reyn assured her. "She'll treat you as a friend, not just a tool."
The spirit hesitated before giving a small smile. "Then I'll stay. But... I hope she'll talk to me sometimes."
As she bonded with the sword, the frosty aura around it grew stronger, and Reyn couldn't help but smile at the subtle warmth she added to the weapon's power.
Finally, Reyn approached Aidan's sword. This summoning required two offerings: a golden apple and a carved jade banana. As the magic flared, two figures appeared—a long, sinuous snake spirit with shimmering emerald scales and a lively monkey spirit perched on its head.
The snake hissed, its voice low and regal. "I am Oroven, and this is my mate, Luma. We come as a pair."
"Of course you do," Reyn muttered under his breath, already sensing chaos brewing.
"Hey, blacksmith!" Luma chattered, jumping off Oroven's head to inspect the sword. "This thing's pretty nice. You sure the guy using it won't mess it up? He better not, or Oroven and I will—"
"Luma, enough," Oroven interrupted, his tone commanding. "We will accept this blade, but the wielder must prove his worth by protecting both of us equally."
Reyn groaned. "You two sound like you're going to drive Aidan crazy."
Luma grinned. "That's the plan!"
As the two spirits entered the sword, the weapon gained a faint green glow, the hilt wrapped with faint engravings of vines and serpents.
---
Reflecting on the Day
Exhausted yet exhilarated, Reyn slumped into a chair, wiping sweat from his brow. He glanced around his secret base, the magical glow from each weapon adding a vibrant energy to the room.
"These swords aren't just tools," Reyn thought. "They're alive in their own way, and their wielders will have to earn their trust."
As he closed his eyes for a brief moment of rest, he couldn't help but wonder what challenges Elric, Selene, and Aidan would face with these weapons.